And It All Came Tumbling Down
by KatnissIsTheLove
Summary: This is a story of a woman, who was left alone in this forsaken world. This is the story of Annie Cresta.
1. And it all came tumbling down

**Okay, so this is the first chapter in a three-shot about Annie Cresta. Its set when Annie learns the news about Finnick's death. Although I've planned this as a three-shot, let me know if you like it. If there's enough reviews, I may consider making it a full length story. **

**Enjoy! **

And it all came tumbling down

It was rainy that morning. That should've been enough to clue her in to what else could've gone wrong. It should've reminded her that they weren't living in a perfect world, that they were at war. The sodden soil it left behind all too exactly matched what she was feeling at that very moment. Because if there was anything Annie Cresta was familiar with, it was foreshadowing. It had rained too, that day that her name was drawn from the glass ball. The day that her district partner, _Marvin_, was slaughtered. It rained too, the day that _he_ went to war. Her childhood sweetheart. _Finnick_.

Rain never brought anything good. They said that bad things came in threes right? If that were true, she was rid of all misfortunes from there on.

Annie could see the raindrops splattering on her top-floor window; see the little paths formed as they trickled down, as if it were a race to the bottom. She absent-mindedly rubbed her belly, felt for the new life that was forming within her. Looking back, it would seem apt that she was pregnant. That with the tragedy of losing her husband's life, she gave birth to yet another life. A life for a life. That's what they called karma, wasn't it? But it was supposed to be fair. Not like this.

A knock on the door. The beginning of yet another chapter, in the tragic story that they called life. It startled her. She pricked herself on her sewing needle that she clutched in her hands. Another omen of what was to come.

She creaked open the door, just the slightest inch, and gasped when she saw President Coin herself. Hastily, letting the President in, bustling around in an effort to make her room appear more hospitable. Not that it mattered anymore, when the first words sprouted from Coin's mouth.

"_I'm sorry, Annie."_

She stopped abruptly in her little noticed preparations and felt her grip on reality slip away. Just the same, the flower vase that Annie was holding slipped from her trembling fingers and shattered on the floor. And her whole world came tumbling down.


	2. He wasn't coming back

**Hey guys, just wanted to thank you for all the awesome reviews! xoxo**

He wasn't coming back

_Irony_. Someone up there must really like _irony. _It was ironic, how the birth of a new life, came directly after another was stolen. It was ironic, how history repeats itself. It was ironic, how Annie Cresta has succumbed to the horrors of the prison, that they call _her mind_.

As President Coin went on and on and on, Annie was slowly falling back down into what they call _insanity_. Maybe that was what it was. But to Annie, words like that have no meaning. They don't tell you how the nightmares will never go away. They don't tell you how everything that was once so familiar, now seems so strange, so unnatural, so fake. They don't tell you how, when your whole world collapses around you, it seems like you'll never see the light again. They don't tell you how you can't even begin to differentiate real from not real, right from wrong, then from now.

The word _insanity_ doesn't even begin to describe what Annie had gone through. What Annie _is_ going through.

She flickered between realities. Only registering a few phrases. _"Mutts… bit his head off… he died… quickly…..." _And then she was whisked off again, back into her demented nightmares. Seeing again, _Marvin_, have his head chopped off. His lifeless eyes, on the ground, staring back at her. His jade green eyes, so like Finnick's, but so different, lacking that energy that defined his very being. And then, suddenly, it wasn't Marvin's head on the ground, it was _Finnick's._

She screamed.

His tousled bronze hair, a smirk still on his face, the only thing missing was the twinkle of his sea green eyes. She almost reached out, she wanted to shake him, to beat him until he came back. She wanted to see him laugh, and tease her. She wanted to see him _wink_, that special wink that he reserved _just for her_. She wanted her Finnick back again.

Again, she was dragged back into reality, by a brush of a hand on her shoulder. President Coin was still rambling on. _"… truly sorry… our deepest condolences….. always be remembered_". Even the slightest contact, the few phrases that Annie heard, sounded forced. Faked. As if it was all recited from a carefully crafted script. _Its not worth it, to listen anymore_, she decided.

Rocking back and forth, her head cradled in her lap, she did just that. She stopped listening. She stopped caring. Eventually, the President let herself out. People came and went, some bringing food, others clearing it away after a few days. Eventually, they stopped caring too. They stopped bothering. After all, who cared about the broken woman just down the hallway. Who cared about her _insanity_?

Only Finnick. But he would never come back.


	3. For Finnick

**Sorry for the late upload, I've been busy with church the whole day. So here's chapter 3, the final chapter (so far). A lot of you have been saying I should continue? Maybe I will. It depends, cause the only reason I started this was to relax after studying for my Finals. So I'm not really sure if I have time for a full story. But I'll try!**

**Again, thanks so much for all the reviews! Love ya guys! xoxo**

For Finnick

She whimpered, hoarsely, the sound almost undetectable. Months of screaming _his_ name, only resulted in her throat going dry, her voice disappearing completely.

Annie Cresta _wanted_ to cry. She _had _to. But no tears came. They hadn't for weeks.

In the beginning, she just rocked back and forth, on the floor of her apartment. Weeping silently, mourning _his_ death. Her tears rolled down her cheeks, her shirt damp. Everyday, it was the same. Just rocking. Back and forth. Back and forth. But rocking couldn't bring _him_ back. Nothing could.

Then the screaming came. Maybe if she shouted his name to the heavens, someone up there would take pity on her. Send him back down to Earth. Apologize for the mistake. For the robbing of such a good soul from the face of this Earth could have been nothing but a mistake.

But now, her tears were exhausted, her voice gone. She could only resort to whimpering, to hoarsely _whispering_ his name.

Her body shook with grief. _Why?_ Why did he have to go and leave her, all alone in this huge world. A world that she could no longer stand. A world that she despised. She wasn't like _him_, accepted into this world, instantly popular. No, she was the freak, the weirdo, even before the Games. It only got worse after.

People expected Victors to be, well, _victorious_. They expected them to rejoice. To celebrate. To live a rich and pampered life ahead. They only remembered the good parts, see. They envision victory to be the _glory_, the riches, the title of being a _Victor_.

What people don't remember is the training beforehand, the killing. They don't remember that, to gain allies, you had to force yourself to grin and make friends, to allow yourselves to grow closer to other children that you would eventually have to kill.

That was what had broken her. Seeing her ally, her _district partner_, beheaded like a convict, shamelessly, even though he did nothing wrong. But she didn't blame them. No, they had done nothing wrong as well. It was the _Capitol_ that was to blame.

_He_ knew that too. Its why he enlisted in the war. To fight. For _her_, really. He had wanted to avenge her, to avenge _Marvin_, to avenge all the fallen tributes, who died under their cruel and heartless regime. So it was all _her_ fault, really. Everything was.

Just then, Annie decided let go all the last strands of hope she had. There was, after all, no more hope left in the world. What could she live for?

A kick interrupted her thoughts. Only a gentle one. But one that could well be the most precious in the world. A reminder, that perhaps, there was more left in this world than she thought.

_For the baby_, she decided.

_For Finnick._


End file.
